


Letters and Words

by lalaland666 (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, seriously he’s so sweet y’all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lalaland666
Summary: An old letter turns up at the British Museum, and forces Aziraphale and Crowley to have a long-overdue conversation.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 268





	Letters and Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckets_Of_Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/gifts).



> This is largely based on [this](https://galwednesday.tumblr.com/post/616944185600360448/thinking-abt-immortality-and-how-meticulously) tumblr post, which got stuck in my brain and wouldn’t let go, so here we are!

“Come _ooon_ , angel,” Crowley wheedled, urging Aziraphale inexorably deeper into the museum. “It’ll be cool! And, hey, maybe you knew them.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but let himself be lead in the direction of the British Museum’s newest exhibit. “I haven’t known every queer person in history, Crowley, don’t be absurd.” 

“Nah, just all the ones in England,” said Crowley. 

“Oh, hush,” Aziraphale said, unable to hold his stern facade in the face of Crowley’s grin. “You are utterly incorrigible.” 

“Proudly,” Crowley said, glancing around them. “Look, here it is!” 

Shoved rather in a corner was a temporary exhibit for the month of June, titled _Love Through the Ages_ , featuring various writings, drawings, photographs, and other such artifacts from queer people and relationships throughout history. The centrepiece was a recently-uncovered love letter from 1796, which spanned three pages and was displayed proudly in the glass case in front of the exhibit. 

“Oh, that’s gotta be it,” Crowley said, striding blithely towards the case. 

“I must say,” Aziraphale said, following along after him, “you never struck me as the sort to be interested…” As he spoke, his eyes found the line of address and read it. 

_My dearest Crowley,_

Aziraphale’s blood ran cold, and he froze, his eyes scanning over the letter. Oh, good Lord, it _was_ , he remembered that letter, and he thought that it had been destroyed, but here it was, and now–

“Angel?” Crowley’s voice cut through Aziraphale’s mounting panic like a knife. “What’s wrong? You okay?” 

“Fine!” Aziraphale said quickly, taking a step back from the letter, a part of him almost afraid that it would somehow follow. “I’m fine, my dear. But, ah, perhaps it would be best if we… skipped this exhibit? Let’s go to the café, yes? Or we could go and look at the Egyptian relics, I can’t remember now if any of them were from your time there, or–” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Crowley said, moving to stand in front of Aziraphale, blocking his view of the case. “What’s wrong? Did you… you didn’t see… anyone, did you?” 

“No,” Aziraphale said, shaking his head. “No, we’re, ah, there’s no one from… there’s no one. I just… just don’t think that this is the best idea…” 

“Why not?” Crowley asked, looking back over at the letter. “Can you sense something?” He took a step closer to the damnable case. “Hang on a second, that’s _my_ name…” 

Aziraphale’s panic surged, and before he could think about it, he’d snapped his fingers and teleported away, back to the bookshop. 

_No,_ he thought almost desperately, _no, no, no, this isn’t how I’d– I wanted to– this wasn’t meant to happen! Crowley wasn’t meant to find out like this. I’d meant to– oh, and now I’ve gone and run off, what will he think of me? If the letter hadn’t ruined everything, then surely I have. Oh, I have to– I have to_ do _something, I can’t– I have to–_ Aziraphale’s thoughts dissolved into frantic, panicked, meaningless noise, and he pressed his hands to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut in a useless attempt to block them out, his knees very nearly giving out beneath him as he sank to the floor. His breath was coming in desperate, panting gasps. He couldn’t breathe. He had to _do_ something, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, the shop was crowding in around him and his thoughts were clamouring and he couldn’t _breathe_ – 

“Angel! Aziraphale, listen to me! You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I need you to breathe with me, okay?” The voice was familiar and warm, cutting through the haze of panic, and Aziraphale felt a hand grab his and press it to something warm and steady that was rising and falling smoothly. 

“Breathe with me, okay?” the voice said. “In– out.” The steady warmth beneath Aziraphale’s hand rose and fell with the words, and Aziraphale followed suit, his breathing and heartbeat steadying, his vision clearing. 

Sitting in front of him, clutching his hand to his chest, was Crowley. His sunglasses were missing, and his eyes were almost entirely yellow. 

“Oh, Lord,” Aziraphale breathed, his entire body freezing once more. “Crowley…” 

“Hey,” Crowley said, a strange sort of half-smile flitting across his face as he let go of Aziraphale’s hand. 

Immediately, Aziraphale missed Crowley’s warmth, but he drew his hand back anyways, fresh panic mixing with shame and rising blush-red in his face. “Crowley, I– I’m sorry, I’m so–” 

“No, hold on, wait, what?” Crowley said, his brow furrowing. “Why are you sorry?” 

“The letter,” Aziraphale said, squeezing his hands together in a desperate attempt to keep control of himself, to not spiral off into panic again, not with Crowley watching. “Crowley, I’m so sorry, I didn’t– I never meant for you to find out like that, I’m so– I didn’t– I’m sorry, Crowley–” 

“Oh, love,” Crowley breathed, and then he was– he was reaching out for Aziraphale, pulling him into a hug, drawing him close and holding him tight, and Aziraphale clung to him in turn, squeezing his eyes shut against a wave of tears. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out again, though for what he wasn’t sure. 

“Shh,” Crowley soothed, his arms tightening around Aziraphale, holding him close with serpentine strength. “You’re okay, dove. I… is it still true, then? What you… what you said, in the letter, is it–?” 

Aziraphale jerked back a little, panic flaring once more. “You read it?” 

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “Did… did you mean it?” 

Aziraphale looked at him and found that he couldn’t have lied about this if the world depended on it. “Yes. Yes, I… I did. I... still do.” 

Crowley’s breath hissed in sharply. “All of it?” 

Aziraphale’s eyes dropped down to the floor. “Every… every word.” 

“Oh, _angel_ ,” Crowley said, and then he was– he was hugging Aziraphale again, pulling him in close, warm and steady and solid, and Aziraphale gasped, utterly taken aback. 

“Crowley–” he said. 

“I love you, too,” Crowley said. “I’ve loved you for so bloody long that I’m not sure when it started. In your letter, you said that no one could love you, that you were wrong and broken, and, angel, that’s _not true_. You’re the best bloody thing to ever come out of Heaven, you‘re the pinnacle of God’s Creation, you are… you’re the love of my bloody life. I love you, more than I ever thought I could love anything, and, angel, I am so sorry for letting you believe, for even a _moment_ , that you were any of those things you said.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale choked out, clutching the demon close, and then Crowley drew back, cupping Aziraphale’s face in both hands and brushing away an errant tear. 

“Can I kiss you?” Crowley asked, his eyes scanning Aziraphale’s face. 

“Oh, yes, _please_ , yes,” Aziraphale breathed, and then Crowley was leaning in, and _oh_. 

For all of Aziraphale’s imaginings, for all of the times that he had pictured this moment, had dreamed about it, the reality was so much better. Crowley’s lips were soft and his touch was so gentle and sure, so utterly in control and yet so… so... so _loving_ , so utterly tender that it made Aziraphale’s chest very nearly ache. 

After what could have been several hours for all Aziraphale knew, Crowley drew back and pressed their foreheads together, one hand tangled in Aziraphale’s hair and the other still cradling his cheek. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale said, suddenly desperate to say the words himself, to speak them out loud. “I love you, Crowley, I love you more than anything, I love you _so much_ that sometimes I feel I might burst from it.” 

“I love you, too,” Crowley said, pressing another gentle peck to Aziraphale’s lips. “Fuck, I love you, angel. My angel.” 

“Yours,” Aziraphale agreed, hands fisted in Crowley’s jacket as though it were the only thing keeping him upright. “I’ve always been yours. Ever since Eden, my love.” 

“ _Aziraphale_ ,” Crowley groaned, lurching forwards into another kiss, and Aziraphale lost himself in it again until Crowley broke it once more with a quiet chuckle. 

“You can’t just say shit like that,” Crowley said quietly, the soft grin on his face rather undermining his words. 

“Well, I swore to myself that I’d never lie to you again, and I intend to keep that promise,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley’s grin widened, and he tugged Aziraphale into another hug, squeezing him close. “Fuck, Aziraphale, I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, my darling,” Aziraphale said, hugging Crowley back. 

“D’you… wanna try going back to the museum?” Crowley asked. “I could stand to read that letter again.” 

Aziraphale laughed, and couldn’t stop himself from kissing Crowley again– not that he would have wanted to. “That sounds lovely, my dear. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” And with that, Crowley stood, tugging Aziraphale with him, and they made their way to the door. 

“Where’s the Bentley?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Um. Think she’s still back at the museum. I, uh, was in a hurry.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Crowley said, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and tugging him close. “You needed me, and the car would’ve been slower than teleporting.” 

“ _Oh_ , Crowley,” Aziraphale said, leaning his head against Crowley’s shoulder. “I love you, too, darling.” 

“Heh. Little foresight might’ve been good, though. Now we’ve gotta walk back.” 

“Hm. You have a point. Would you prefer that we wait for her to find us?” 

“Could take a while. Not sure she knows we’re gone yet.” 

“Well then, while we way, would you like to stay in and have a drink?” 

Crowley hummed thoughtfully. “Y’know what, sure. On one condition.” 

Aziraphale looked up at him expectantly. 

Crowley grinned. “I get to spend the night, too.” 

“Oh, love,” Aziraphale said, laughing and tugging Crowley back inside. “You can stay for as long as you’d like.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
